


the wine on your skin

by Echoe



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, i just had this idea of byleth licking wine off manuela and i rolled with it, it's also my first time writing anything remotely sexy so i hope it's ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 01:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21091358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echoe/pseuds/Echoe
Summary: Manuela comes to your room to rant, accompanied by a bottle of wine.Then the two of you get kind of distracted.





	the wine on your skin

**Author's Note:**

> (me looking at the title : you really need to get better at titling things girl)  
(me @ me : oh yeah??? then what about the summary HUH??????)  
anyway i've been wanting to write manuleth smut but i've never written smut before so i'm... easing into it slowly.  
i know it's not super sexy but i hope it's still good anyway!!!!

"... and then he had the gall to tell _me_ that _I_ was the one being rude! Ugh! Can you believe the _nerve_ of this man?"

You shake your head. With everything that Manuela has said, you're not even sure that you know who she's talking about, but it doesn't really matter. Right now, the woman sitting on your bed is a mix of angry and sad and drunk and probably tired since it's, like, two in the morning, so you don't think that disagreeing with her would do any good. She just wants you to listen, really, and you're fine with that, because listening is easy.

You eye the wine bottle on your nightstand.  
It worries you a bit to see that it's almost empty, since your colleague is the one doing most of the drinking.  
You probably should have done something about that earlier.

You refocus your attention on her to listen to her ranting some more, until she stops with a huff, grabbing her glass to down it in one go before putting it back down. You wince.

"Goddess, I'm sick of these men. Why is it always like this?"

She sounds sadder now, and her sentence is followed by a sigh. But you don't have an answer for her, so you don't say anything, instead choosing to put a hand on her thigh to rub it in small circles, hoping to provide some comfort. She doesn't say anything, but you think she appreciates it. (You hope so, anyway.)

As you do that, you notice the wine slowly dripping down her mouth (she's getting sloppy, you think), so you bring your free hand up to wipe it off. She thanks you, saying something about being a mess right now, while you lean foward to lick off the traces the wine has left on her skin.  
Manuela stops dead in her tracks.  
You lean back and proceed to lick your thumb clean, and it's only when you look back up that you see her staring at you, mouth open. You just blink at her, tilting your head.  
She stares some more, until she realizes that you had no thought beside getting her clean, and she starts laughing. You don't know what she finds so funny, but you like hearing her laugh, so that's ok.  
Once she calms down, she speaks again, looking at you fondly.

"You always take such good care of people, professor, don't you?"

Do you? You don't feel like you do, because it's not like you do a lot. But maybe the little that you do is already enough for others.  
The two of you stay quiet for a while. You decide that you've rubbed her thigh enough, and opt for massaging it with your hand now. Manuela sighs, content.

Her low chuckle is what eventually breaks the silence, as she grabs the near-empty wine bottle to pour herself another glass. She brings it to her lips, and you realize quickly enough that she isn't actually drinking at all. All of the wine drips down her mouth, then down her chin, onto her cleavage.  
When she's done, she feigns surprise.

"Goodness, I'm so clumsy. Help me out, dear, won't you?"

You're not sure what she's trying to do there. Why would she spill all of her wine like this?

"... Should I go grab a towel?", you try.  
She smirks.  
"No."

You feel like a towel would have been much more efficient, but you don't protest. You'll ask her afterward why she's doing this, though.  
This time, you don't even try using your thumb, knowing it would pretty much be useless with so much wine. You move to sit in her lap, not commenting on how she immediately puts her arms around you. You put your hands on her shoulders and, bringing your face closer to hers, you trace the line of wine from her chin to her lips with the flat of your tongue.  
Then you move down, following the trail down her neck, and you feel her shiver under you.  
  
(Is it because of you? Because of what you're doing to her?  
Something about this idea makes you feel strange.  
It's not a bad feeling, though.)  
  
She slides one hand up to the back of your head when you start licking across her chest, and you stop to look up at her. She's still smiling, but her face is flushed now. Is she okay?  
When she sees the look of concern on your face, she starts petting your hair.

"Don't mind me, dear. I'm more than alright."

You frown, not entirely convinced, but she gently pushes your head down, so you go back to the task at hand.  
You plunge your tongue between her breasts, and you hear her breath hitch.  
  
(She's stopped petting your hair, now gripping it lightly.)  
  
There, you lick again, trying to get as much wine as you can, what with the dress hindering you.  
When you're done (technically, you're not, because you're fairly sure there's more wine lower down, but you can't exactly reach it), she still doesn't let go of your head, so you stay there, face in her chest.  
  
(It's soft and warm. You're sure it'd feel nice under your hands.)  
  
It's all so quiet. So quiet you can hear her heart beating (is it supposed to beat so fast?) and her breathing hard (is she okay?).

Eventually, she removes the hand at your head, and quickly after you hear a small click. When you look up, you see that she's unclasped the thing around her neck, holding the fabric in her fist. Her free hand leaves your back to come to your chest, and she pushes you away slightly to have enough room to yank her dress down to her hips.

You stare, mouth agape. Your eyes travel down her naked body, and you feel a warmth forming in your stomach.  
She looks beautiful, you think.  
(_I wanna touch her_, you think. It's like an urge.)  
You don't hear her grab the wine bottle, too focused on the view before you, don't hear her uncork it, only see the dark liquid suddenly trickling down her breasts, her stomach.  
You don't even bother to ask her if she needs a towel this time.

You give a tentative lick to her wet breast, and she gasps. Now her hand is back at your head, pressing down, urging you to continue. You circle the mound of flesh with your tongue, lick up, flicking the tip and making her moan.  
The sound makes you hungry for more. You latch onto the nub with your mouth, sucking on it and drawing more sweet sounds out of her.  
(It's intoxicating, more so than the wine.)  
You bring a hand up to her other breast, uncaring of the wine covering it and start massaging it (it's as soft as you imagined). Manuela sighs in delight.  
(Out of the corner of your eye, you see her sneaking a hand down between the two of you, between her legs.)

You keep working on her like this for some time, your hand and mouth switching place at some point, and all the while you can feel her arm moving ever so slightly, her hand hard at work under her dress. Her breathing is becoming more laboured, her moans more frequent, her grip on your hair tighter.

"Oh, professor..."

You look up momentarily to look at her glazed expression, at her flushed skin, at her half-open mouth.

"Do you feel good?", you ask, inching your face closer to hers.  
  
(You think you already know the answer, but you kind of want to ask anyway, just to make sure.  
Also, you want to hear her talk like this more, out of breath because of you.  
For good measure, you tug at her nipple when it looks like she's about to answer, making her gasp.)

"Y-Yes, so... Don't you dare stop..."

You won't. You don't know where this is going, but you know you want to see it.  
Even with your weight holding her down, her hips start to jerk forward, and you see her arm moving faster, so you redouble your efforts. You roll a nipple between your thumb and your index, carefully scrape the other with your teeth, and you bring your free hand on her back to keep her close to you as she begins to shake more and more.

"Ngh... Profes- Ah, Byleth..."

Hearing your name like this startles you, makes you pinch her nipple _hard_, and she half-moans half-screams your name again.  
  
(It's the first time she's ever said it, you think.  
It sounds good when she says it. Especially like that.  
It excites you. It's a strange feeling.)  
  
You try biting her nipple softly, while pinching and tugging on the other, and it's when she apparently reaches her limit, because suddenly her back arches and she tenses, holding you tight and moaning your name again.  
She stays like this for a moment, and when her breathing starts to slow, she falls back on the bed, bringing you down with her. She brings both of her hands to your face (you can feel a slickness on some of her fingers), and she tugs you up. You get on your knees and elbows to crawl on her, and when your face is close enough, she kisses you.  
  
(Her lips are so soft, too. Everything about her is soft.)

When she releases your mouth, she moves her hands down on your back, holding you closer. She's smiling at you, and it's hard to imagine now how upset she was earlier.

Eventually, getting tired, you let yourself fall on the bed, immediately snuggling up to her. You're craving the warmth of her body right now.  
Then, the monastery's bell rings three times. You had forgotten how late it was.  
You don't want her to go, though.

"Manuela," you begin, peeking up at her.  
"Mmh?"  
"Will you stay here for the night?"  
She chuckles.  
"I would have been upset if you had asked me to go. Let me just get rid of this..."

You strip down while she wiggles out of her dress, and soon enough you're lying down on the bed again, Manuela in your arms.  
Her skin is a bit sticky, and she notices it, too.

"Say, professor."  
"Yes?"  
"Would you be a dear and accompany me to the baths tomorrow?"

You promptly nod. You're always more than happy to help her clean up.


End file.
